


Solitary Confinement

by AlisterAzimuth



Category: Ratchet & Clank
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Gore, Cussing, Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2015-05-27
Packaged: 2018-04-01 14:07:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4022740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlisterAzimuth/pseuds/AlisterAzimuth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After being wrongfully jailed for crimes he didn't commit (for a second time) Ratchet's pitted against the jail's current inhabitants and it's eat or be eaten.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Medical Confinement

**Author's Note:**

> Alternate Universe drabble written in my spare time.

The cell mates here aren’t what you’d call “kid-friendly”.

A lot of them arrested for petty crimes such as shoplifting and mugging are a common breed for us. Murderers, and other more high-profile criminals run the inner workings of the jail planet while under the guise that the wardens here actually have any control over their prisoners. 

What makes this increasingly difficult for the wardens is that since recently an outbreak on planet Obarion, the mental ward planet, the clinically insane have been moved here for their protection. 

I am however friends with one, a… Sleethen Musm that has a Hannibal-esque mask around his jaw, and double layered gloves sewn onto his jumpsuit, so he won’t be able to take them off easily. He’s surprisingly civil most of the time, but he’s got a fearsome temper that emphasizes why he’s wearing the mask in the first place. His personal doctor, a Markazian man, came here and signed up as a warden, so he has more power to subdue his patient and to keep an eye on him so he doesn’t end up killing someone.

I’ve been here for at least 10 years for armed burglary, conspiracy against the emperor, and violence against the emperor. And I have a ways to go. But never in my time here, have I seen a kid this young get convicted with something as big as planetary terrorism.

He looked like he just walked out of high school, tripped, and fell into the prison jumpsuit. The prison escorts had trouble bringing him into the courtyard, since he was flailing about claiming he was innocent (like they all do) and getting sassy to boot. My first impression was that he was a little dick, not gonna lie.

But after what I saw him go through on his first day, I wish I hadn’t hesitated in helping him. 

My Musm friend that I have mentioned earlier, Kayl, made a comment about the new kid, stating that he looked like you could just look at him the wrong way and he’d be on the floor sobbing, and seemed the vulnerable type. I disagreed, since there were a bunch of short-stuff powerhouses here. (have you seen what a Kerchu is capable of?) I did however agree that he appeared as such.

Now with new jail members we have a sort of ‘christening’ way of bringing them into the jail atmosphere, to ensure that they know what they’ve gotten themselves into. We refer to it as ‘tenderizing the fresh meat’. 

What we do first is let the newbies alone for the first two days, and let them get used to their surroundings, and find where everything is, talk to a few cell mates, etc. But then after that grace period, we take a seasoned cell mate that looks like they’d be the same skill as the newcomer, and have an all-out brawl to see if he’s worth any sort of recognition. 

If the newcomer wins, the newcomer has the grace of not being bothered for any sort of favors, including the ever so popular sexual ones. 

However, if the newcomer loses, he is subject to be that cell mate’s personal lap dog. 

~~(I have lost the newcomer battle myself, but I ended up beating the cell mate’s nearly to death when he tried to pull my clothes off. Had to give me my own cell because they couldn’t recognize him after I was finished reorganizing his face and smashing his balls into paste.)~~

But then there’s a problem: Nearly all of the cell mates recognized him. I heard the new kid’s name bouncing around, “Ratchet.”

This was hardly anything compared to the Ytachyian that ran his own gang within the jail who heard about the newcomer. And he was pissed.

See… This guy is named Ligea. Convicted kidnapper and sexual offender, and a hulking powerhouse. He was sent here by a report from the new kid Ratchet, and jailed immediately. The problem? The report said Ratchet himself was kidnapped and sexually assaulted, instead of it being just a kidnapping of a Markazian child. And Ligea did not like this, thinking he was purposefully sabotaged by the kid. Despite everyone telling him a lot of reports end up messed up, and mix up old cases with new ones if the species is similar, he was determined to make sure the kid suffered.

And did he make him suffer….

Ratchet was avoiding a bunch of huge blokes when Ligea came storming up, screaming, “You just HAD to make my sentence worse for me, didn’t you, you little shit?!”

Ligea started swinging at him immediately, and Ratchet’s just ducking his swings as he’s saying, “What in the hell are you talking about? You kidnapped that kid! I didn’t make jack worse!!”

“THEN  _WHY_  AM I SENTENCED TO LIFE FOR KIDNAPPING AND SEXUALLY ASSAULTING YOU?!”

"I never said that!! I told them the truth!! It might’ve been a mista—”

“ _SHUT UP_!! I’m DONE with your shit, Lombax! And I think it’s time you suffer for your shit!!”

Two of his gang members started crowding around him. I went to get up and get involved, but Kayl just grabbed my arm and said, “It’s best  _not_  to get involved.” He nodded over to the group, adding, “They’re probably trying to psych him up for that bullshit brawl you inmates do… either that or try to scare him into losing so he can be their personal cum rag.”

“Just let them be idiots and continue on.”

And I did.

The first thing Ligea’s blokes try to do is swing at him from both sides.

 Ratchet immediately ducks down and lands on his palms, flinging his legs out and kicking the guys’ legs out from under them. Both hit the ground simultaneously, with Ligea looking ten times more pissed than before. Ratchet hops up, dusting his hands off grinning.

“Maybe you ought to think out your plans thoroughly before trying something like tha—”

_**-CRACK-** _

“— _aaaaauuuh_ …?” One of Ligea’s other lackeys snuck up behind him with a five pound weight and smashed him over the head with it. He staggered in place, his jaw trembling a bit, before he hit his knees and fell face first into the dust and dirt.

Ligea never played fair.

The Ytachyian pointed at him, and said, “Hold his arms and legs down, and someone hold his head still.” The group did so, stretching him out to the point he couldn’t even bend his knees. Ratchet was still in a daze, his eyes rolling about trying to focus. I couldn’t see what Ligea had in his hand before, but he had crouched low, and brought the metal thing to Ratchet’s face.

I jolted up, and Kayl, irritated, repeated, “For Orvus sake, Az! They’re being stupid! Let them—”

He paused suddenly, and sniffed the air.

"What’s the matter?” He sniffed a few more times before his face grimaced.

“There’s blood. And it’s fresh.”

My head whipped over to where Ligea and Ratchet were. I wasn’t sure if it was just sheer luck or just how bad the wound was, I saw a glistening of red. 

That was my breaking point.

So I’m rushing over there, shoving Ligea and his lackeys off of the poor kid, and what I saw was a touch below horrifying and above disgusting.

Ligea, using a piece of scrap metal, had carved out his right eye, pulled it out, and mutilated it beyond repair. The natural lens was ground into the dirt, surrounded by the reddish pulp. The front part of his jumpsuit was drenched in bile, probably his body reacting to the blow to his head…

Now I was mad… but… not as mad as Kayl was…

He was seething furious. He started tugging at his mask, screaming incoherently, but mainly, “ _I’LL FUCKIN TEAR YOUR GUTS OUT AND STRING YOU UP BY THEM AND USE YOU AS A GODDAMNED **PINATA!!!**_ “ Eventually he did get the mask off, and started chasing after Ligea’s gang, and Ligea himself, and tailing not far behind was Kayl’s doctor, shouting for him to calm down.

Since Kayl can disperse a crowd no problem, it got quiet real fast. 

Then, I feel this… clawing sensation on my shoulders. 

I look down, and it’s the kid. He’s awake, but just barely, his one good eye fluttering miserably as his right eye bled profusely. His lips were moving, but it was hard to tell what he was saying. He continued to claw at my shoulders, probably to try and grasp onto something. I hoisted him out further and muttered, “Hey. Take it easy…” 

He let out a miserable whimper in response, and he fell limp in my arms, shivering. 

I ended up bringing him to the medical wing, where he stayed for two months recovering.

He’s alright now… got an eyepatch and some medication for his migranes. He’s been bunked with me since I was the only one who gave enough of a shit to help him.

I sometimes wish I hadn’t waited.


	2. Medical Guilt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the point of view of Talwyn Apogee, who volunteered to work at the prison in fear of Cronk and Zephyr being made victims of the criminal who's blowing up planets left and right, finds out just who ended up having the blame pinned on them.

Usually, cleaning up after doctors in a huge solitary planet’s hospital wing is irritable to those who have the occupation. But since Talwyn heard about a galactic-wide search for a crazed ‘planet-destroyer’, she’d gladly wipe up the stray blood puddles and torn articles of clothing rather than subject herself, with Cronk and Zephyr, to the madman running loose in her home galaxy.

 

Not the best job, no, but at least she’s got assured protection from both the cellmates AND the ‘planet-destroyer’. Then there was a smooth voice over the intercom:

“Cellmate No.998344238 has arrived to the E.R. with multiple contusions around the cranial area, fractured femur, puncture wound to the oculus sinister and dislocated mandible. First response, please tend to the cellmate, as his condition is nearing critical levels and is beginning to physically convulse.”  
  
Like clockwork, about four-five workers groaned in agitation, and hurried through the automatic doors. Talwyn sighed, since she had just finished wiping up the last of the blood off of the operating table.

She placed the cleaning supplies aside for a moment when the first response came back, their chatter clashing together to create a disorganized conversation to the uninvolved, wheeling in what appeared to be a mass of red and orange, which was twitching on occasion with a gurgle. The Markazian heard bits and pieces of the conversation as she was reorganizing the antibiotics on the shelves:  
  
“…first day here and can’t even…”  
“…thugs are all the same…”  
“…what a cocky Lombax…”

 Her head snapped up at the last comment, repeating, “…Lombax?” She quickly turned and caught a glimpse of a brown and yellow striped tail, kinked and twisted, hanging off of the cot as it went into another room. She was slightly dumbfounded, being that the only Lombax  _she_  actually knew was Ratchet, and he had told Talwyn and the other’s he and Clank were currently vacationing on Merdegrew.  
  
What was  _he_  doing here? 

Her interest now piqued, she crept over to the door the cot went through, and peeked inside the door.

Well… it was Ratchet, alright. Except he looked like he got into a fight with an army and lost.

With what she managed to glimpse, he was well beyond that snarky Lombax she knew, and instead convulsing, shivering and sobbing mess, beginning to scream as the surgeons began to place the oxygen mask over his muzzle, “I can’t see!! I can’t see!!”

His right eye was well beyond healing, simply dark red and glistening with blood as it dripped down his cheek, making him scream louder.  
  
But it was all she saw though, before an assistant reached for the door and slammed it in her face, a  _click_  following after. She straightened herself up and attempted to peer through the looking glass of the door. Covered.

But his screams were still apparent, until they reduced to loud sobs and babbling, mixes between, ‘They all want me dead!!’, ‘I’m innocent!!, and of course, “I can’t see!!’ which died down to silence in the passing time.

Maybe she’d be able to get a room number out of a co-worker of hers once he was placed in a room.

* * *

 

With the lie that she was going on lunch break, she hurried along the corridor, ignoring the wolf whistles and cat calls from other cellmates in the medical wing. With the help of her co-worker, she was able to figure out which room the Lombax was in.  
  
She was nearly lost in her thoughts to the point of passing his room, and skidded to a halt, catching the door frame to stop herself. The door was ajar, so she quietly pushed it open, and crept inside.  
  
And sure enough, there he was, nearly his entire face wrapped up in gauze, except for his left eye. He was unconscious, of course. She walked up closer, a hand reaching out to gently shake the hero’s bandaged hand.   
  
A sudden flinch, and whimper. She drew her hand back, wary, and whispered, “….Ratchet?”  
  
The Lombax’s ears flinched at the sound of her voice as he slowly turned to her voice, his voice muffled through the bandages, “….Tal…?”

He attempted to sit up and cringed, slowly retreating back into the bed.  
  
“What are you doing here, Ratchet?” Talwyn immediately asked, hands on her hips. “You know that just about all of these goons you beat are locked up in here!” She leaned in so Ratchet wouldn’t have to strain himself, “You could’ve gotten yourself killed in here!”  
  
“…I was arrested…” He mumbled, looking off to the side. 

“…for what?”  
  
“For something…. I didn’t do.”  
  
Talwyn leaned back, placing herself in a chair. “… But… why would they do that?”  
  
“Because I fit the description of some…rngh… loon they were looking for….” He muttered, shaking a bit.

“Me ‘n Clank were just relaxing on Merdegrew…. when the authorities just came up suddenly and started pinning me down, reading me my rights… while they were interrogating Clank about his… involvement with me…”

Ratchet shifted his body to face Talwyn, his voice beginning to waver, “They brought me here, thinking I might… pull the same planet-bombing stunt that happened five years ago… and left me in the courtyard…”  
  
“Two big burly guys… about th’ size of Qwark, just came up… and recognized me…”  
  
His eye that wasn’t covered by the bandage glistened as he continued, “The-they shouted, ‘New piñata!’ then I-I was surrounded!! I managed to knock out two of them before….”  
  
He began to visibly shake, voice tapering off. Talwyn leaned in closer, placing a hand on his bandaged one.  
  
“…Before what, hon?”

“…One of them hit me… in the back of the head… ” He continued, voice shaking. “And two guys pinned my by my feet and wrists…. and…” He swallowed.  
  
“One of ‘em had something…. I don’t know what it was… but he said something about, ‘carving my eyes out’ then it just….” He shuddered.  
  
“I just…. blacked out…”  He looked in front of him blankly, and added, “I…. do remember something…. before I blacked out…”  
  
“What was it?”  
  
“Two guys…. don’t know who they were but… one was blue and the other was white…. it was really blurry and hard to tell…. but they helped me…. or… at least tried to…”  
  
“They were standing near me… before I blacked out… I think the blue one was saying something… about tearing someone’s guts out." 

"Tal…” He then grasped Talwyn’s hands. They felt clammy and cold through the bandages. “You have to help me… I have no idea where Clank is… or what they did to him… Please Tal….” His voice was cracking as he finally said, almost sobbing,  
  
“Don’t make me go back out there…  _please_ …” 


End file.
